Once Upon a Time
by BabygX
Summary: Extension of Erik & Christine's Last Episode...
1. Once Upon a Time

"Once upon a time, long long ago, there was a beautiful princess who led a miserable life. She had everything a girl could have ever wished for--a pony, a castle, and the love of her life…but…she was not happy. Her mother became very worried about her and bought her treats and dancers to entertain her, hoping she would recuperate, but the princess was unfulfilled. Until one day she came upon a man in the forest who told her, to find true happiness, you must learn to love who you are. And he knew, unlike anyone else in the kingdom, that she hated being herself. She was only a peasant in disguise. To discover your true self, the Hunter said, you must prove to yourself you are really a princess…you must do good deeds for good people. You must carry water for the weak and cook for the hungry. You must be humble and surrender yourself to those who are in need. Even when you are just as weak, you must give all for others, for this is the only way you can find yourself. 

"So the princess did everything that the Hunter had asked of her. She worked in an orphanage and tended the needs of children. Her hands became rough and dirty and her feet were scarred from the rocks that had cut through her shoes when she carried the water. When she finally returned to the forest to seek the man who had given her these orders, she found him dead next to a tree. For ten years she'd believed he was her heaven-sent Angel in disguise…but he was really just a peasant, an ordinary man who told her to act out his beliefs on how to live. And she'd followed them, not questioning because she was desperate for an answer. Now that she was back, the princess was empty-handed, but she'd found what she was looking for, and she was happy. 

"What do you think the moral of this fairy tale is, Christine? Tell me, and I'll set you free." 

"I…I don't know," She stammered, "I'm…confused…"

"Of COURSE you're confused, Christine," He laughed coldly, "Why wouldn't you be?"

"But if I should be confused, how can I answer your question?" She cried frustratingly, "How can I know?"

"Ah…exactly, mon cherie," Erik leaned forward from his chair a little and lifted a finger at her temptingly. "That is the question. How can you answer, when confusion has muddled your thinking? Well, forget the rational, the common sense, and you tell me, WHO it has to be."

"Erik," She pleaded, "You can't turn it around like that, making me answer my own question when the question is yours…"

"Am I?" He sat backwards a little and put the tips of his fingers together, as he appeared to be thinking. "Well, I suppose I should just forget you asked it then…So will you answer my questions?"

"I--I suppose--"

"What is the moral of the story?"

"I don't know!" She was near tears. "I'd need some time--some time to think…"

"About which one?"

"Both, Erik, both, please…"

He sighed. Then his voice became suddenly soft, "I suppose I'll tell you the moral then."

Christine stopped crying and looked at him. "Yes, tell me."

"Do you see the parallels, Christine, of you and me…? The princess, like you, has everything…but she goes searching for far more meaningful things…and she finds someone who tells her that there is an answer to everything. So she believes him immediately…her Angel, her savior. Like you…Christine….just like you. But then…then, she does all those good deeds, and she finds that it brought her back to where she'd started. The same place. Apollo's lair…a tree…dead...how I felt, when I found you there, in the garnier fantome that is my sanctuary…with the Vicomte, lost in each other's arms like you could not bear to see another morrow without him. And I'd realized, my angel was dead…she'd committed the ultimate sin, and betrayed me."

Christine began crying again.

"And how was I to end the story?…She was happy…the fairy tale ending. Well, the truth is, it had to be a fairy tale to have a moral, you see…And the moral is, Christine…that fairy tales, don't, exist. You betrayed me. And I won't forgive you for it."

"Erik, I--"

He stood with such a violent force that it threw back the chair, slamming it into the granite fireplace. The loud crash made her jump involuntarily. 

"Shhh…"

She bowed her head shamefully though her cheeks burned with anger.. "You followed me."

"Yes," he said, his back towards her and his hands clasped behind him. "I followed you onto that roof where you kissed your precious Vicomte and forgot all about me."

"I didn't forget--"

"But you DID!" He yelled suddenly; his voice was like thunder echoing through the labyrinth. "You'd put me aside and I was to be temporarily gone in your eyes…you and your Vicomte, however, will be forever!"

"I couldn't deny him the time, Erik!" Christine bit her lip unconsciously. "I'd seen you every day since the Opera has started…and he felt lonely--and he'd needed attention--"

"Oh...Lonely..." The ice in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

"Well, in that case, I'm quite sorry for the confusion Christine. If I'd known that the Vicomte was in such dire need of your love, I wouldn't have stayed down here in my tent and waited for you to show up for your lesson,…watching the wax from my candle waste its last drop. But poor Raoul, all alone up there without the only woman he hasn't bedded in Paris…I should have learned by now to understand you're need to go to him, because he truly deserves my pity… nothing more heart-tugging than the anguished cry of a poor little rich boy!"

"I didn't want him to do anything stupid, Erik."

"And what would that be?"

"He'd threatened to kill you in the past and I…I didn't want him to attempt to…"

"To kill me?" Erik laughed. "Oh yes, thank you for saving me from what could have been a most amusing death, indeed. How shall I repay you, hm? With a song? Or better, an Opera?"

"Stop it!" Christine covered her head with her hands and sat down so she could stop the pounding hysteria in her head. "You're torturing me, purposefully, because you hate me for what I've done, and I understand, Erik, I do! But please don't mock me…I don' think I can take anymore."

"I don't hate you."

She shook her head, still sobbing. "No, you should."

She felt his presence next to her and she stopped rocking back and forth to look up at him. His face was expressionlessly cold, but he no longer looked angry with her. Perhaps if she touched him… Christine reached forward with a shaky hand.

"Don't."

His shoulders tensed. Then, sharply but carefully, he walked to the banister and poured himself a cup of brandy. Then he turned to face her and slowly took a sip from his glass.

"Do you know what it's like to live in a box, Christine?"

She shook her head.

"Well it's very much like being dead. You can't breathe, you can't think...Imagine how you would feel if you were in a very small box and multiply that fear by twenty, and then perhaps you might have an inkling of an idea of how your lover feels this very moment."

She looked at him with the horrified expression of a beaten child.

"What's happening to him, Erik? Where is he?"

Erik shrugged his shoulders. "Suffering."

Suddenly the images of Raoul in a coffin, yelling and beating his fists against the lid invaded her head and tears of frustration rush to her eyes. Christine made her way towards Erik and fell to her knees. . "Please, don't do this...I'll-I'll do whatever you say."

"Oh?" His voice saturated with sarcasm. "How noble of you to play the martyr, my dear! But I hardly think you realize the consequences of what you are saying."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Answer my question."

"Yes." Christine said without thinking, "yes, Erik, I will marry you."

"Your acting is becoming less and less convincing, my dear," Erik walked away from her and poured the rest of the wine into the fire and it made a small explosion.

"What more do you want, then? I answered your question...now, please let him go."

"What do I want?" He slammed the glass onto the ground. "Did you ever think that I deserve respect too, Christine? Do you think I'm stupid, that I would just accept that 'yes' like a blind idiot and watch you run off with him again? Do you think I would wait one more time and willingly make myself the saddest groom in the world to be without his bride on his wedding night?" He took a deep breath to calm himself. "You can't bear to see the boy suffer, let alone hear about it, but you can hurt me, Christine, and you're very good at doing it!"

"That's not true!" She cried, "I care about you too."

"Me too?"

"Yes..."

"Are you sure, Christine?"

The tenderness in his voice made her blink, and she watched as he moved forward and extended her one perfectly gloved hand. She stared at it but hesitated to take it.

"Forgive me," Erik withdrew his hand suddenly. "I didn't know that your caring for me meant you were still afraid to touch me."

"No," she shook her head unsteadily, "I'm not afraid. I'm just-"

"Sickened by the thought of physical contact?" He laughed in a way that sounded more like he was crying. "You still think I have scorpions up my sleeve though I've never harmed you in any way. What would I possibly do to you, Christine? You, the only person I have ever loved so much that I would die for you if you asked me to..."

His words sent pains of guilt and shame to her chest. It was only a brief moment that took her to decide yes, but it was still a moment too late.

"I'm sure, Erik."

He made a sound that sounded like it hurt him to hear her say that. "It's not enough, Christine...I need more..."

Christine choked, "More?"

"Are you afraid I might ask you for something and you'll refuse me?"

She shook her head.

"But what if I told you that caring simply isn't enough and that I need a promise from you?"

"What kind of promise?" Christine was quite nervous.

Erik was silent for a moment and then he spoke quietly.

"A physical promise."

Christine gasped. She felt her face turn red and was physically flustered enough to want to run someplace and hide.

"Erik, I...I don't think I can..."

"Don't worry, Christine," He said almost resolutely, "I don't mean for you to sleep with me. I simply meant for you to stay with me, away from the Vicomte if I let him go." He wasn't looking at her but he could feel the relief and embarrassment in her eyes. "Can you do that, Christine? Will you be faithful for me?"

She nodded, still registering the boldness of his words.

Erik stared at her through his mask, pleading and boring his eyes into hers as he spoke. "Understand that I would never make you do what your heart will not allow you to do, my dear...I can't make you love me...but I tried..."

Christine stared at him in silence but she could swear she heard the sound of his heart breaking. 


	2. Redemption

"Christine!"

The cry seemed to come from all around her and she searched desperately for the direction of Raoul's voice. 

"Erik, please, I promise to do everything you say...please!"

He laughed, mechanically and it frightened her even more than the thought of Raoul dying.

"Don't mock me, my dear. I didn't bring you here to hear you say those words."

"But isn't that what you wanted to hear?"

"Why ME? Why does it have to be what I want to hear? Can't you want the same thing, for me?"

"You ask so much of me..."

"I ask nothing of you as compared to what you're asking of me! Sparing his life so he can take you away and I know you would gladly make a romantic escape and leave me in your memory. I would lose you to a boy, Christine...I can't allow that to happen, you see, I always get what I want, at any price."

Erik was clinching his fist so tightly that Christine realized a shard of wine glass must have cut his palm because he was bleeding very slowly and the blood was seeping onto his cuffs.

"Erik, your hand--!"

He seemed to not notice, or at least not feel any pain.

"Do you know what I feel every time I see your face, Christine? I see fear and disillusionment, followed by the DISAPPOINTMENT in your eyes when you fixed them on my face...I LIVE in the nightmare of the horror in your scream that night, Christine; sometimes it becomes all encompassing and it makes it very difficult for me to finish my music..." He swayed a little as though he were about to faint. "Well it's true...I'm not perfect. But I love you...Isn't that enough?"

Erik was about to sit before he realized Christine had taken his hand and began wrapping it with a material she had torn from the hem of her dress. He watched her do it with a mixture of awe and disbelief. His hand trembled from the sensation of her fingertips every time they brushed his palm and she realized after a moment that he could barely stand straight.

"Christine, I--"

"Shhh..." She made a knot with the cloth and inspected his hands for any more wounds. "Is that too tight?"

He shook his head. Tears of pained affection brimed the edge of his mask.

"--I need you...need you to..."

"Yes, Erik?" She got up slowly, her hands still clasping his.

He was still sobbing genlty and she felt the need to hold him--

"Christine, tell him to let me out!!"

The cry caught her off guard and he dropped his hand from hers and immediately his demeanor assumed it's orginal languid coldness again. 

"I need to let that boy out of his box."

Erik walked over to the door of the torture chamber and he spoke slowly to Raoul as though it would be very hard for Raoul to understand.

"Now, I don't want you to be hysterical when I open this door, do you understand?"

Silence.

"Ms. Daae is very distraught as it is--we dont need you to upset her with your impentent whining..."

"You DEVIL, you, let me out!" Raoul's voice was possibly irate.

Erik sighed, and slowly, he reached to turn the key.

Christine saw her last chance of redemption flash before her eyes.

"Erik, wait!"

He froze.


	3. Seal

Erik stared at her. She could not see beneath his suit but every muscle in his body was paralyzed at the sound of his name. Could she be forcing herself to be indignant at the thought that he might change his mind? He'd reached for the door of the torture chamber with his wounded hand--it was nothing really, but the thought of her caressing it with her lovely fingers made his injury all the more sensitive...it that was what it felt to bleed for the first time, then let there be more! 

But who was he kidding? She'd done the deed out of pity. She would have done the same for anyone in the street--imagine how she would have held the hand of the Vicomte de Chagny! 

Erik visibly flinched.

He still looked at her panic-stricken face and couldn't read what she was feeling. He thought he'd always been able to do that quite accurately. What was so different about her now?

Maybe she truly does care for you...

Nonsense! What a pathetic time to console himself! A sudden jolt of realism hit him and he was overcome with the regretful thought that he'd brought her down here for the wrong reasons. She'd given him her word but that solved nothing. His right mind told him not to be foolish...the truth was, he was terribly frightened of her honesty. That could ruin everything.

Erik's hand began throbbing and he pressed it tightly to the knob but realized that was a stupid decision because the iron was hot from the events inside the chamber. With a slight annoyance he put pressure on his palm with his free hand and held his wrist in a soldier like fashion.

In a unnerving and unplesant instant he saw that they were not alone. Daroga had found his way down the catacombs somehow and stood uncomfortably behind Christine, watching them both.

"My friend, you've come at a perfect time to break the moment!" Erik calmy put his arm down. "This evening's getting even more cozier than I anticipated, wouldn't you think?"

Daroga made a gesture towards Christine. "Erik, why are you doing this."

"It's not me, Daroga," Erik snarled. His patience was really waning at this point. "It's men like you who keep me in chains!"

"Me? Surely, you are joking, Erik--I am the one who freed you from your death!"

"And thank you, daroga, truly, I give you my greatest, deepest gratitude for sparing my life...Oh the compassion you have shown me has taught me more than you can imagine my dear, Nadir. Can't you see that I've become a much changed person? Not only do I kill less important men now, I only do it when I am personally insulted!"

The persian shook his head miserably. "I see now that I should have left you to be. I regret it enough at this very moment to say that I am deeply, deeply disappointed with you, Erik. What happened to that man of inifite promise? Where is your dignity and respect for all that you've always so elegantly valued?"

"That was a long time ago, daroga," Erik caught the word "long" in his throat when he spoke. "I don't feel anything of the sort now. I find no purpose in speaking of the past that does not mean anything anymore. It's just wasting your time and mine while the boy is dying in there." He mentioned towards the torture chamber. "Listen closely and you can hear him dying."

"I won't let you!" Daroga yelled indignantly.

"If you value your own life you won't get in my way."

"I feel genuinely sorry for you, Erik," Nadir was furious but his voice quivered with sadness. "I never thought--"

"Coward, let me OUT and we'll fight like men!"

Erik made a slight sound of amusement and looked back at Christine. She was still staring at him like she was trapped in an array of thoughts and she couldn't get a sentence out.

"Christine, are you ill?"

Slowly, she shook her head. Then, quite timidly, she walked towards him, counting each step under breath until the distance between them closed and her chest was nearing touching his. Then she saw that he'd been clutching something in his hand, and she reached out to him to unfurl it.

"No, Christine...it's not for you."

"It's not?"

She was disappointed.

Erik sighed softly, "it is," he took a calming breath, "but you're not ready yet..."

"Why not?"

"Because...you haven't really promised..."

"But I have," she gazed at him with large blue eyes of endearment.

Erik hesitated. Suppose it would be fitting to give her the ring now, but with daroga watching them, it was as if he was waiting for her to give him the wrong answer.

He held out the ring after a second of indecision and watched her incredulously as she took it and slipped it freely onto her finger.

"It's beautiful, Erik, really."

The remark seemed to have relaxed him, and she felt his heart steadying again.

"You'd lost it."

"I know," Tears welled up in her eyes again, "I didn't mean to--"

"You promised you would never let it part with you, Christine," his voice strained with emotion, "You promised me."

"I know, Erik..." Christine suddenly fell into his arms, bursting into an torrent of tears that feel from her face unto his lapel. "After I realized I'd lost it, I couldn't forgive myself...I know what a disservice I'd done you, and if you found out you wouldn't trust me again...all those things I said to Raoul--"

"Yes, those things," His body was shaking, "what about them?"

"They were only meant to calm his qualms, I swear...I had no intention of leaving you when I knew," she pressed her face even harder into his chest, "I knew I wouldn't stand to see you hurt!"

"But the kissed him, Christine!" He was crying now.

"I kissed him as friends do! I would kiss my friend farewell, wouldn't you?" Her cries grew softer, "I did what I had to do..."

"Even deny me?" Erik pulled Christine's face close to his so he could look as deeply into her watery eyes as he could. He brushed his fingers against her tear stained cheek and whispered, "even when you knew I would be watching..."

"Erik, I..."

"How dare you?" 

"Because," Christine said breathlessly, "I never loved as I did when I saw your jealousy."

She kissed him firmly, then intensely and vigorously, and her knees felt weak and soft as she clung onto him as he held her in his arms so tightly that they'd molded their bodies into one and they could no longer breathe after a long period of time. She he pulled away she felt as if she'd taken part of him in her body, and the release must have been anguishing because it sent a wave of sadness through her body because she knew at last, that he was dying.

They stood for what seemed like an eternity like that, staring at each other and recording the sensations underneath their skin.

Daroga realized suddenly that by this time Raoul de Chagny might be toasted to a crisp but found it somehow unfitting to tap Erik on the shoulder for the key. Instead he walked over and found the door already unlocked. When he opened it the Vicomte fell foward against him. Obviously he'd been leaning against the door for a long period of time and had exhausted his energy in trying to open it right before Erik unlocked it. The boy was clothes and hair were drenched in his sweat, but he lay on the ground, with his eyes open. At first daroga thought he was dead for good, but then Raoul blinked twice and his mouth opened and closed.

"I think he's trying to say something," Daroga looked at his friend.

Erik did not move. His eyes had a curtain of mist over them and Nadir wasn't sure if he was blind. A moment later Nadir felt Erik's hand on his shoulder and heard that familiar unearthly voice that had never sounded so at peace.

"I wish to speak with you, my friend."

Nadir nodded. "What do we do about the boy?"

Erik reached into his pocket and produced a small black bottle in his hand. "Give him this. And be sure that he downs enough liquids to fill this lake by tomorrow. Can you do that, Nadir?"

I nodded, shocked by this rare occasion where he uses my formal name.

"As for Christine...I've already made arrangments for her and the Vicomte for England tonight. Her carriage is waiting outside."

"Erik..."

"My dear," He took her hand in his and pressed his lips to it delicately. "I shall hope to see you at your wedding. I can't promise to attend, but...I promise to try."

"Erik..."

"No, my dear, don't cry like that, it's not very becoming..." He smiled at her. "You know I can't stand to see you cry."

Then releasing her hand, Erik turned away from her and disappeared into the drawing room, the Persian following closely behind.


End file.
